Trolling the Other World
by Woodswolf
Summary: Strawberry lemonade tastes good. Rated M for language and trolling. The gross kind.
1. One: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

_'Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

_"...the fuck is wrong with you?"_

That's the only part of her rant I bother hearing, as during the rest of it I was busy pulling all the handles on the soda-dispenser chandelier. Did you know that the things have an infinite amount of whatever they contain? I just found out!

I decide to completely ignore her question, and pretend that she asked, _'What the fuck are you doing?'_

"I'm flooding the first floor," I tell the Other Mother. "What the fuck does it look like to _you_?"

_"Why?"_

"Because I can," I say. "Trolling is fun..."

"Fuck off! How am I supposed to fucking clean this up before my kid gets here?"

I laugh, and shake my head. "You're not."

"Get the _fuck _out of here!" she said, picking me up and hurling me out the door.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do outsi-"

The door slammed.

_Wow, she's pissed._

I walk back up on to the porch and inspect the door, before cutting the bottom of it with a sharp knife I brought along for this very purpose.

Strawberry lemonade begins to flow out from under the door, and I mean _flow_.

I laugh, and go searching for other things to troll.

Well, before that, I carve a huge creeper-face into the door with my knife, and strawberry lemonade, which now looks a lot like blood, begins to flow from the mouth carving, but that's beside the point.

* * *

_(A/N): Yep, because of my fancy-schmancy title up there, I'm not going to be having beginning A/Ns for this fic._

_Some of you are happy. I can tell._

_Anyway, this was randomly inspired to me when I read Chapter Six of __**Call Me Katie **__by __**Cayln**__. It's really awesome, I just finished it._

_Next chapter will be up soon, or whenever I get around to it._


	2. Zero: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

_'Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER ZERO: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

Well, I've pretty much trolled everything that can be trolled out in the yard.

I haven't hit up the garden yet, though... I'm saving _that_ for later.

Anyway, everything within a fifteen-foot radius of the front door of the Other Apartment is now so sticky and wet... I have no idea what the inside of the house looks like, because the creeper-face on the door is still bleeding-at-the-mouth.

And, well, there wasn't really much to do out in the yard. I hacked off some of the siding of the house with a hatchet I found in the barn (I'm going to go troll that later, too), and took the insulation out of the wall and spread it all over the yard, but there isn't really much else to do anymore.

Thus, I consult my Book of Troll of Epic of Troll, and it says to me, "Why don't you go graffiti the ladies' apartment? I think they'd appreciate that."

And so, I obey it, and go down into the giant theater.

I take out my spray bottles of glow-in-the-dark neon spray paint. I have three colors: flourescent yellow, blood red, and puke green.

Using the 'puke green' color, I spray 'DEUTSCHEN STERBEN!' on the velvet curtains. Probably nobody who reads it will get it, but that's kinda the _point_.

While I'm here, I decide to go and mess with the rest of the theater. I loosen the supports of the balconies so that they'll crumble away with even the slightest touch.

And then, since I'm feeling destructive and bored, I chop down the whole front row of chairs, drag each one outside to be strewn across the lawn, and drag some of the insulation from inside the walls of the house back into the theater to replace the front row of seats.

On the insulation, I spray-paint 'LOSERS SIT HERE! IDIOTS!' in the same puke-green color as before. It stands out even better against the light-pink color of it than it did against the curtains.

Once my work is done, I flee the scene, and check it off my List of Troll of Epic of Troll, and prepare to head to the next location.

* * *

_(A/N): Okay, sorry Germans. No offense. I just wanted Mr. Troll to spray-paint something random and stupid where it will clearly be seen._

_Oh, yes, later will be so fun..._

_And, by the way? Later this thing's rating might have to be moved up to M for the contents of one or two chapters. I'm so naughty..._


	3. Negative One: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

'_Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER NEGATIVE ONE: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

I open the door and step outside into six inches of strawberry lemonade.

Thankfully, I had worn good old rubber boots for my trolling expedition, and so my feet don't get wet.

When I opened the door, though, all the strawberry lemonade that had been pooling outside the door rushed inside to stain the velvet carpeting. It wouldn't smell very good in there in a few days, what with all the rotting carpet.

But now I have to climb up three stories worth of stairs (or something like that) to go and fuck with Bobinsky's apartment.

I hack off more siding as I climb the stairs.

When I finally get up there, I decide that the first thing to go would be the railings. I hack at them for a little while with the hatchet, and eventually, once it's way too dull to do anything but be a heavy-duty wicked-awesome metal club, I go down to the barn again to search for an epic chainsaw.

Four hours and three chain sharpening later, the railings are gone, and I bend down the metal near the edge of the balcony to create a Fatal Troll-Trap.

After I do that, I position the railings spikes-up on the ground thirty feet below to create a Super-Fatal Troll-Trap.

Once that is done, I am prepared to go inside the flat.

Now I take out my can of blood-red spray paint and prepare to graffiti everything.

I try to open the door and find myself spinning upside down and all around and eventually my butt plants itself on the floor.

Then, I come up with the perfect idea, and spray on the floor where I landed, 'YOU HAVE BEEN INSEMINATED'.

After that, I tear the circus tent to shreds. The mice cower in fear inside it, and I convince them that I won't kill them if they let me train them.

Their new routine begins by spelling out 'SEXY AND I KNOW IT' before it quickly dissolves into a porn show.

It's a subtle troll, and will only be realized once it's far too late.

I don't do much else, besides vandalize all the ceiling supports, before I leave.

I check it off my List of Troll of Epic of Troll and move on to the next location.

* * *

_(A/N): Well, the rating moved to M right there without me actually meaning to. I needed something stupid and random and troll-like that would be funny later, so…_

_By the way, this thing will be split into two parts: the Trolling half and the Exploring half. We're almost finished with the Trolling half right now._

_And once I thought up how I would end this… well, I'll make it a surprise. XP_

_ON A RANDOM NOTE, a poll will be up on my profile soon. Vote for your favorite fandom/the epikest fandom. You will make a difference._


	4. Negative Two: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

'_Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER NEGATIVE TWO: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

When I open the door leading back outside the old man's apartment, I am only slightly surprised to find that there is now a lake of strawberry lemonade outside it.

Literally. I step out onto the former balcony and I can feel the lemonade slapping on my boots from below the grate that it's made of.

I look out across the horizon and see nothing but pink ocean and the tops of the towers on a very pink house.

It was an _awesome_ idea to glue down the dispenser, wasn't it?

Fortunately, I came prepared with a diving suit and a few oxygen tanks.

And when I'm finished trolling, I can sail across the horizon on a yellow inflatable raft I packed, feeling triumphant that I trolled a house and then drowned it in strawberry lemonade.

I go back inside the apartment and put the diving suit on before I go and dive down the stairs.

Strawberry lemonade is a very strange thing to swim through.

Eventually, I reach the barn, which, surprisingly, has not flooded.

Come on, it's got wooden walls with fucking _six-inch-wide_ gaps!

I know it's trolling me. In my anger, I hack the shed to bits, and a giant air bubble flies up to the heavens.

Or the surface.

Or whatever.

I still have a few air tanks left, so I decide to go and do one last troll before hiding for a while in the uncreated world – it can't flood since it doesn't exist.

I begin to mess with the garden.

_Long live trolling._

* * *

OTHER MOTHER

* * *

I couldn't stop the flooding – why did he have to use Krazy glue _and_ duct tape?

How will I fixed this?

I can't get it cleaned up. There's no way to clean up the flooding besides letting it drain naturally (and unsticking the tap, but that will take _forever…_), and the ground can only take so much of the acidic shit before the point where the 'lemonade' is as good a fertilizer as salt, and nothing ever grows there again.

The Garden won't survive this… _oh crap…_ it was the only one he probably couldn't troll! _Everything_ here looks like shit now… I won't be able to bait and keep the kid!

It's either trying to clean it up, or to recreate this world in the ten minutes or so before the kid gets here.

Neither situation is promising.

Now it's getting too full of the 'lemonade'. I have to leave the apartment and hope there's less of it outside now, and if not, seek shelter in the basement apartment, as it won't flood.

_Fuck trolling._

* * *

_(A/N): Just wait until you see what Our Favorite Troll did to the Garden!_

_*laughs uncontrollably*_

_It's what this thing was originally going to be rated M for._

_Now there's a porn circus __**and**__ the Garden._

_Evolution is so awesome… and so dramatic, in the case of ideas._

_This is also the end of the Trolling half. You know, what I explained earlier?_

_We'll have a perspective switch now for the Exploring half (you'll know who it is)._

…

_Vote on that poll, now!_


	5. Negative Three: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

_'Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER NEGATIVE THREE: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

Well, I've been chasing this mouse I found under my bed all over the house.

Now it's going for this little door in the corner of my living room.

I open the door, expecting to see the bricks I saw this morning and a trapped mouse, but instead I find a face-full of strawberry lemonade as, all of a sudden, a river of the stuff rushes out of the bricks… or what I thought were bricks.

It turns out there's a passage behind the door, but I can't see what it looks like because the tidal wave of strawberry lemonade is now burning my eyes to crisps.

Once I regain my vision and the sting in my eyes isn't so bad, I look around my family's apartment to find that there's about a foot of strawberry lemonade covering everything.

I decide to take my chances swimming through the passage rather than sticking around and trying to explain why there's fourteen inches of extremely-acidic, extremely-pink, extremely-overflavored lemonade on the whole first floor.

And then, naturally, being grounded for life.

I start swimming very quickly through the passage.

I can't tell how far I've progressed (I have to keep my eyes shut – I don't want more of the stuff in my eyes), but I've swum a long way, I'm pretty sure.

Eventually, however, I begin to run out of air in the middle of the passage.

I begin to assess my situation.

I'm swimming through a _secret passage _I found in my apartment that's filled with _strawberry lemonade_. The passage is some sort of super-secret thing that I'm either _dreaming up_, or that _nobody can find_ during the day.

And most importantly, I'm _alone_, and I'm _drowning_ in _fucking. Strawberry. Lemonade_.

What a _unique_ way to die!

That's right when the ceiling above me ceases to exist, or, at minimum, drops off.

I swim upward with all my might. Eventually I surface.

The thing is, I find that there's only an inch worth of air up on the ceiling. I don't open my eyes. I take a breath and try once again to flee.

From what I can tell, based on feeling around, the house is of similar layout to my own.

The level of strawberry lemonade in the house is almost to the ceiling all the way through… even the second floor is full to the brim.

I swim back downstairs and try to find the front door and open it, expecting to be swept out into sweet, refreshing, new air.

I feel no change.

There's no air out here.

There's probably no more air anywhere in wherever-this-is.

I'm going to drown here.

Alone.

In strawberry lemonade.

…

I hate strawberry lemonade.

* * *

_(A/N): There. It's official. Coraline hates strawberry lemonade._

_Alas, I've never had it (but I had strawberry-pomegranate lemonade two days ago… that was 'interesting', not the best), so I can't say if I agree with her._

_Did you enjoy Coraline's first adventure into the Other World, trolled or no?_

_I hope you did._

_You better have._

_Believe me; it's in your best interests._

_And your instincts._

_You __**have**__ heard of the 'survival instinct', correct?_

…

_And also: Anyone betting that Coraline's going to die in Candy Land?_

_Well, guess what?_

_She [redacted]!_

_Yay!_


	6. Negative Four: Strawberry Lemonade

**TROLLING THE OTHER WORLD**

'_Cuz sometimes it's fun to be a troll, you know?_

* * *

CHAPTER NEGATIVE FOUR: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE

I can't see where I'm going at all.

I have no idea if I'm swimming up or down, and my lungs and limbs are tired, and if I breathe, I drown.

I try to find the surface. I try to tell which way is up.

I just try to swim up, and up, and up…

Eventually, my head bumps into something. It was hard metal.

I think I'm about to faint and die, for a moment, before I try to see if there's air above it.

I kick up, once, twice…

My head shoots out of the lemonade. I have no idea where I am, but I breathe, over and over, let my breathing slow down as I relax.

I look around and find that the place I was led to, the exterior of this strange house, has been completely flooded with strawberry lemonade, except for a few of the highest towers.

Come to think of it, those towers are very similar to the ones on my house…

I swim over to the roof and crawl up the side of it. The smoke-gray shingles are very rough, and with my soaked PJs, it isn't exactly the most comfortable combination, especially if I have to sit here until the lemonade all sinks into the ground or whatever is outside of this house.

I look around and find what I didn't know I was looking for: a yellow raft out in the ocean of lemonade.

I swim out to it, hurrying. It looks like it's paddling away pretty quickly.

"Hey!" I shout. "Come back! Please!"

Whoever is manning the boat – it appears to be a boy of around fifteen years old – looks back at me for a minute. He seems to recognize me before he starts paddling the boat in the other direction, towards me.

"Well, you got caught in the middle of my troll, I see," the boy says, laughing apologetically. "So you were the kid the lady was talking about…"

"Huh?" I ask. "What lady? Who are you? Where am I? How did this place become flooded with strawberry lemonade?"

"Do you want in the raft, or not?"

"Please."

"I'll explain on the way out of here," he says, helping me into the raft.

I sit quietly on one end of the boat while he begins his explanation.

"The lady was the one I was talking to earlier," he says. "Apparently you just missed her, and she fled either after she shut the tap off or without shutting it off at all. Chances are likely it was the second one."

He laughs. I don't.

"And… before you trust me…" he whispers nervously, "You might want to see what I did to your portrait first…"

He steers the boat over to a patch of water like any other. I can see there's something below the strawberry lemonade, but it's too pink to be able to tell anything other than shadows.

"Try these," he says, handing me a periscope of sorts.

Surprisingly, they actually work, annihilating the pink shades that prevent me from seeing the stuff on the bottom. And then I'm angry.

It would have been a very beautiful portrait… had 'LOSER' not been written over its forehead in red, a darker, elongated shape below it, near my mouth, and more flowers below it spelling out 'GOT PENIS?'

It was exactly the kind of thing a boy several years older than me would probably think was hilarious, and here I was, sitting in a rubber raft on a sea of lemonade with a boy several years older than me, staring down at work he claimed to have done.

I had one thing to say.

"Fuck you."

"I was expecting that," he replied.

"But," I said, as I had not quite finished what I was going to say, "I guess it's nice of you to let me stay with you, since I'm pretty much an orphan now."

"Why?"

"Well, wherever this lemonade came from, it just separated me from my parents is why," I explained. "I opened a door to try to catch a mouse, and all of a sudden all of this strawberry lemonade shot out of it, and I knew my parents would kill me on sight if they saw it and I was still there, so I found the tunnel, and swam through it, and almost drowned twice, and now I'm here, sitting in a boat with you."

"Well, then, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Well…" he said, his eyes shifting, "I was… kinda… the one that was trolling… that turned on the infinite strawberry lemonade tap… and glued it in place…"

He turns toward me, and I remain calm. I mean, this will be a really epic adventure together.

"Whatever."

"Thanks."

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask him.

"Hmm…" he says, like he's never had a name, or known what it was. "Call me Ted. Ted the Troll King."

"Okay, then, Ted. Where are we going, anyway?"

"Depends. Where you wanna go?"

I take a paddle from him, and we paddle together across the pink ocean, a family in the loosest sense; truly, we are nothing more than a group of orphans on a journey for trollolols.

* * *

OTHER MOTHER

* * *

It's been several weeks.

Chances are good by now that he's left, and that the lemonade levels have dropped severely.

And then I remember the kid.

_SHIT!_

I run back upstairs to the regular apartment, slipping through the acidic river that pours from it.

The kid is gone.

I think I know where she went.

I'll get those trolls someday.

* * *

_(A/N): Woo! Anybody like?_

_Yes, this story is over, complete, at last, with a godforsaken cliffhanger!_

_Troll me if you want. Flame me if you want. This whole fic was a trollfic about trolling the Other World. Wouldn't it be awesome if there was a trolling review for a trollfic about trolling? Count the trolling! One layer, two layer, three layers of troll right there!_

_Fuck you if you don't think that's awesome._

_And by the way! You know that random poll I told you guys about? You know, the pick-your-favorite-fandom one? Well, guess what!_

_Yes, the godforsaken cliffhanger right here is going to lead in a Coraline-MostVotedFandom crossover! And then Coraline and Ted will go and troll, for example, Hogwarts, or, uhm, uh… I don't know. I'll think of another example later, when, you know, it's not in this A/N. Heheheh. *does not do shifty eyes*_

_So far I've gotten one request, and the person wasn't even aware that they made the request, so Death Note gets one vote up so far! Yay!_

…_What the fuck would I do for that, though? Light's house?_

_I have no fucking idea. Oh well._

_WAIWAIWAI! THE SHINIGAMI REALM! OYES!_

_If Death Note gets the most votes, Shinigami Realm wins! It'll be awesome to watch them piss off all the gods of death that can kill them whenever they want to… of course, I don't know if that will be chosen yet._

_And Hogwarts has STANDARDS, specifically those set by Freddie Fish and Georgie George!_

_And then there's all of those other epic places… 12 Grimmauld Place would be really epic, too, with Sirius' great motherfucking aunt or whatever screaming at them in the portrait… oh, yes._

_So either one of those fandoms would be awesome._

_Fuck, I'm thinking of all of these ones that would be so awesome… I'll make a series, then._

_Yep! Look out for all of Coraline and Ted's adventures, coming soon!_


End file.
